


Aftermath

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Robin of Sherwood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-12-22
Updated: 2004-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-25 02:49:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1627622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Story by frivol</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> Written for diagon

 

 

Robin was uneasy. Something was amiss, some trouble stirred beneath the trees. He could feel it, and waited for some sign, some sense of what was wrong.

Like many of England's oldest woods, Sherwood had boundaries, was finite in the miles it covered. Yet once inside, the traveller could wander deep among the trees and feel that the forest went on forever. Robin knew the trees, the paths and bridleways, knew Evil Mere and the villages around the edges, and had done since he was a boy.

Yet for a moment he felt lost and in his mind's eye he saw clearly a village, and a burning cottage with a man and a woman lying dead in the doorway with arrows in their backs. But then a sense of the familiar returned, as it always did. He could hear Herne's voice in the rustling of the leaves, and all was well again. He had long ago learned to accept these visions as part of his everyday world, a glimpse of what was to come, and he knew that in time he would come to know the meaning of this vision too.

The night breeze whispered through the trees, and the moonlight conjured shadows to catch the unwary eye. Robin knew that on such nights as these, the villagers would give thanks that they were safe within their cottage walls, leaving the forest to Herne and those who did his bidding. At least until the daylight came round again to banish superstition and fear.

Yet superstition and fear helped to keep the outlaws free to roam the forest at will. The allegiance to Herne and the old ways was still strong in the people of Sherwood, and their loyalty to him was firmly and inextricably linked with their Christian faith. And between Church and State, between the avaricious Abbot Hugo and his brother Robert de Rainault, the people were kept firmly in check, too busy concentrating on survival to think of justice for their families. In Herne they somehow held onto the freedom that was otherwise a distant memory.

Robin shook his head, and smiled at his doubts. On such nights as this he normally felt alive, one of the creatures of the forest. If Herne's son and his friends did not belong in the forest, then who did?

He picked up his bow, and headed for their new camp, sure-footed now in the near-dark. The site had been chosen carefully. They had had to find somewhere new after Jennet of Elsden led Gisburne and his men straight to the outlaws' previous camp, thinking to capture them drugged and helpless and ready for the gallows in Nottingham. Thanks to Marion, they had all walked away with their lives.

Gisburne was denied his victory, but was now more firmly entrenched than ever as their enemy.

And Scarlet, who had opened his heart to Jennet and allowed himself to feel for the first time since his wife's murder, now felt strongly that he had been betrayed. A jealous Gisburne had accused Jennet of witchcraft. She was tricked and forced by the Sheriff into helping trap Robin and his men, in order to save the lives of both herself and her husband. But Will resented both the husband and the betrayal and his anger was still a living thing.

Robin reached their camp, and walked quietly past Much who was supposed to be keeping watch, but who was firmly asleep. Robin reminded himself to impress on the lad -again- the importance of keeping a look-out. He found Marion sleeping fitfully by the embers of the fire. He gently pulled the deerskins up over her shoulders and settled down beside her for what remained of the night. Her eyes opened a little, and smiling at him she moved to be within his arms, and at last slept soundly.

It was Much who woke them all the next morning with word of a small group of villagers coming their way.

'Awake at last', Robin said wryly, and Much had the grace to look shamefaced.

Robin took pity on him. 'Let's not make the Sheriff's job too easy for him,' he said quietly. Much nodded, and Robin clapped him on the shoulder. He left Much with Marion and Tuck, preparing an early meal for them all, while he accompanied Will, Nasir and Little John to meet the villagers.

But the villagers were in no mood to break bread.

They were from Elsden, With dismay, they told of raiders in the night, and of arrows in the dark; how the raiders had carefully sought out the cottage of Jennet and Thomas of Elsden, and with the same care had killed them where they stood, and set the thatch on fire. The longbows had been intended to point the blame squarely at Robin and his men, but the villagers had seen the chain mail beneath the rough-woven cloth of the hooded surcoats they wore. It was certain that the raiders were Gisburne's men, the Sheriff's men. It was Gisburne's vicious and cowardly revenge against a woman who was a symbol of his failure and humiliation. But there was no proof. And even if there were proof, they all knew- outlaw and villager alike- that the Sheriff would not act against Gisburne. The Sheriff had been humiliated too.

'But the Sheriff issued a pardon for Jennet, and Thomas too,' said Little John, after the villagers had left. He looked at Robin, confused. 'You brought it back with you. It was issued under the seals of Nottingham and The Abbey of St Mary's, and signed by the Sheriff and the Abbot.'

Robin was remembering that day: holding Albion at the Sheriff's throat, he in Gisburne's armour, watching the quill pen scratch across the page, the wax melting, and the two seals in turn affixed to the document he had put so much faith in. A man's life? He thought he had saved them, Jennet and Thomas. Bringing back the pardon so proudly, thinking all would be well. Jennet laughing with them all, the relief that she had not succeeded obvious on her face. He should have known that the pardon was worth nothing once the Sheriff was safe from Albion's blade. He had been a fool!

'Not worth the parchment it was written on!' Scarlet spat. He had thought himself angry at Jennet, but now he wanted to howl his rage at the world. 'Those bastards have no honour!' He thought with unexpected tenderness now of the girl who had betrayed him and the others to save her husband. Her skill with herbs and medicines had brought help to her village, and also accusation and trouble, but her beauty had brought Gisburne and ultimately ended her life and her husband's too. Will turned to Robin. 'What use are we? How are we helping the helpless? The Sheriff and his kind do as they please, make and break the laws. They ARE the law! What can we do about that?' He had started angrily, but his words became a whisper. 'There's no hope for the people. Or for us.'

Robin said nothing, just looked around at the silent faces. He felt the guilt keenly, and knew that Marion and the others were battling their own sense of shock and sorrow. Nasir alone seemed calm. Perhaps he had no expectations where Normans were concerned, or simply expected the worst from those he did not trust. His gaze at Robin was clear, and full of understanding.

Jennet had betrayed them, but Robin had acted to save both her and her husband, put himself in danger to save them, and now they were gone, killed without thought. The pardon by the Sheriff and his brother, representatives of both the Crown and the Church, was proved worthless. Honour was non-existent, justice was at the whim of the Court, and the law, in the guise of a pardon issued by the Sheriff and the Abbot counted for nothing. Pardons could be unwritten, just like laws.

Yet Robin knew he had only one choice. He looked around the circle at his friends.

'Listen to me.' he said quietly. 'Jennet and Thomas can't be beaten any more, or starved, or imprisoned. They are together and at peace. Justice will come to those who brought them death. It may not be in this world, or from us, even though we will try. But we can't let their deaths stop us from helping the people of Sherwood. Perhaps we can learn from this. But I will not learn despair. We can't stop trying. More than ever, the people need our help. They need to know that we will keep on fighting, so they will too. We must give them hope. We may not always win, and sometimes our enemies will defeat us. But we must do what we can, each and every day. There should always be hope for the people, for their future, even when we can't see it for ourselves. That is why. For the possibility of hope, and for each other.'

The others looked at him and at each other, taking the time to think on Robin's words, and remembering all they had shared together. A sense of quiet resolution grew.

Robin left the circle, and from the little cave where they stored their supplies he retrieved some mead which he poured into a bowl. He looked again around at them all, in turn: Much, Nasir, Little John, Tuck, Scarlet and Marion. He raised the bowl and drank, saying: 'Herne, protect us.'

Much didn't hesitate, he drank and smiled at Robin. Nasir didn't drink, but raised the cup and repeated the invocation. Little John and Tuck drank in turn, and called on Herne too. Scarlet, whose anger had dissipated but not disappeared while Robin spoke, took the bowl, and nodded at Robin. 'I swear I will try. It's all we have left. Herne protect us all.'

Marion looked at Robin in turn, her love clear and strong in her eyes. She raised the cup to him. "Herne, protect us."

Robin took the cup once more, and he raised it to Herne. 'Nothing's forgotten.'

Sherwood breathed and rippled around them where they stood close together, deep within the forest. And Herne's voice echoed in the rustling of the leaves. 'Nothing's ever forgotten.'

 


End file.
